The Best Kind Of Denial
by Sanity's-overrated
Summary: "Initially John had ignored the symptoms, chalking them up to nothing more than a nasty cold.  One that had lasted an entire month... " One-shot warnings: slash, mpreg


A/N: Honestly I have no clue...I know I'm supposed to be updating Tony/Loki and Charles/Erik fics...and wrestling, but I've been in over my head with Sherlock Holmes and this idea just came to me during my HUMA class so here ya have it! This is my first time in this fandom so sorry if it's a bit rough

warnings: slash (established relationship) mpreg (pretend it's normal for the time period, that's why it's just a one-shot)

Also forgive the cheesy ending...I didn't know exactly where to go with it :/

Edit: stupid autocorrect, I typed this on my cell and didn't notice until after posting that...his had been changed to he's...that's been fixed now :)

I hope you enjoy

Reviews=LOVE

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><p>Initially John had ignored the symptoms, chalking them up to nothing more than a nasty cold. (<em>One that had lasted an entire month...)<em>But surely that's what it had to be, because the only alternative was highly unlikely. Possible yes, but the cold theory was better suited right?

After weeks plagued by bouts of nausea and general fatigue, Watson had been all too happy to finally reclaim his appetite. The weeks prior had been such a dreadful time which found him, more often than not, with his head buried in a basin heaving up his stomach's contents. He couldn't enjoy a bloody thing, as certain smells caused his stomach to churn unpleasantly, and most of what he could eat didn't stay down very long. It got so bad that even Holmes, who was notorious for his infrequent eating habits, began to comment on the matter.

Finally the bout of sickness had retreated and Watson happily jumped at the opportunity to enjoy a meal. Only now, there was no mistaking what the true cause of the symptoms had been.

Locked in the bathroom, Watson stared at his reflection in the mirror. Cautiously he lowered a hand to his slightly swollen abdomen, gasping at the feel of the flesh below his fingertips.

There was no point in denying it any further now that the proof was staring him in the face. He was pregnant.

Silently he cursed, what was he going to tell Holmes? Surely a child would interfere with his cases; he could only guess how Holmes would react.

Exhaling shakily Watson removed his hand to re-button he's shirt, choosing to forgo his waistcoat as not to draw more attention to his midsection. Splashing water on his face he took on final steadying breath before pushing away from the mirror and heading down to breakfast.

Upon entering Watson only slightly surprised to see Holmes seated reading the paper with his customary toast and tea.

Settling in across from the other man, Watson grabbed for his own tea wanting to calm his nerves before talking. After taking a sip Watson opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off my Holmes who casually asked from behind his newspaper

'Pray tell good boy, when were you going to tell me you were pregnant?'

Watson coughed on his tea wiping at his mouth before exclaiming 'my word Holmes, how did you know?'

Turning down the corner of his paper to look Watson in the face, Holmes smiled softly 'simple observation my dear Watson.'

Anger quickly took surprise's place across Watson's face, who was now fixing Holmes with a sharp look.

'And you thought you'd just keep that information to yourself?'

The detective laughed at that 'I trusted you would figure it out, you are after all a doctor.'

Watson pointedly ignored that last comment giving a slight huff of annoyance 'call it denial then.'

Holmes nodded 'indeed. So how far along are you? I put you around 3 1/2 months; you remember Miss Stoner's case?'

Watson's cheeks flushed a bright red at the mention of that particular case, more importantly the aftermath involving some creative use of suspenders and a headboard. Swallowing Watson replied curtly 'I'm not sure on the date, but I'm already showing.'

Holmes' eyes brightened at this revelation. Pushing back his chair he completely abandoned his newspaper to come around the table and kneel before Watson.

'Might I,' he asked motioning to Watson's stomach.

Nodding Watson moved his chair to face Holmes before moving to unbutton the lower half of his shirt. Grabbing the detective's hands he brought them to rest against the gentle curve of his midriff.

Eyes fixated on his hands and their placement, Holmes breathed out softly 'Watson, look what we've done.'

Watson smiled running a hand through Holmes locks 'I see,' he murmured lightly.

'Absolutely remarkable,' Holmes spoke looking up at Watson.

Nodding in response Watson couldn't help the surge of happiness that filled him. A baby, they were having a baby, and Holmes' reaction was everything he needed. Right then with Holmes kneeling in front of him, hands splayed across his skin, everything was perfect.


End file.
